2075
by Crash Ichimonji
Summary: Faith is Law. Division is Unity. Submission is Freedom. A vision of Orwell's world in a more modern society as seen from Eurasia's point of view.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the story, characters, names, and themes of 1984; they are all copyrighted to George Orwell and not me. The following characters, the High Priests, my ideas about how Neo-Bolshevism will work out, and the guns listed are the only thing which belong to me.

Author's Note:

This story takes place in an Orwellian world, but not during the year of 1984 as Orwell wrote about, yet all the ideas and concepts of Ingsoc rule Oceania, Deathworship rules Eastasia, and Neo-Bolshevism rules Eurasia. The faith used for Neo-Bolshevism is one I have devised with a friend of mine that we created using the concepts and ideals of a typical Orwellian society.

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The jungles boomed with its eerie silence as the squad snuck just as silently through it. Their breathing was long and quiet, their movements fluid and almost like that of a feline. Their armaments were directed to their owners' sides or forward, ready to silence whatever should strike the brigade. Corporal Johnson swiftly wiped the accumulated perspiration from under his nose with his tongue, its briny flavor whipping throughout his mouth now.

Sergeant-Sister, approaching target-point, Johnson 'said' through his third eye. He was a Second Rank Disciple of Bal Or, patron High Priest of blood-lust and violence, and had been given a cybernetic implant on his forehead ever since birth. The device resembled a vertical, azure rhombus approximately two centimeters tall and a centimeter wide. Though they lacked the gem-like covering, all the other soldiers possessed a similar device in their central nervous system which worked like a psychic radio to others in the squad and in civilian society.

Roger. Brothers and sisters, be on guard for anything possible. Those sinning bastards could be anywhere, Lieutenant Oishizu told her fellow Disciples.

Affirmative, ma'am! they all replied.

The jungle is a terrible place to have a war in, especially if your enemy has the home-field advantage. This would often give him the upper hand at tactics such as ambushes, sniping, or any kind of conflict. Back in the days of old, when Oceania was once known as the United States, it sent troops to police an area in Eastasia once called Vietnam. This paranoia of being in a jungle surrounded by enemies was enough to drive the men to insanity during and after the war.

But that was ancient history to the squad that strolled through this jungle. No, in this day and age, these soldiers were quite different from their precursors. This new breed of soldier's gear was specially designed for their situation, they actually wanted to be in this war, and, above all else, they had divine right on their side.

A sudden crack of twigs and a swish of branches to the right-flank of the group incited their weaponry and their pugnacious fighting spirit all at once. The entire area became illuminated with yellow-white flashes and pulses as the five soldiers each unleashed Hell from their blessed instruments at whatever was there. Foliage trembled and wilted to oblivion as hot lead tore through it and cleared the zone of any sign of life. For 30 seconds the troop fired and destroyed the vegetation until their commanding officer 'told' them to cease their actions.

Private-Brother Marcus, Sergeant Oishizu said as the squad formed an omni-directional defense ring together. Go see if there are any corpses where we fired at.

Affirmative, Sergeant-Sister, Marcus, a man of Italian descent, said as he crept cautiously over to the fallen and torn area of the jungle.

Private First Class-Sister Adolfina and Corporal-Sister Louise, cover our Brother.

Yes, ma'am! the two women said as they readied to hit anything that looked suspicious. Adolfina was the sniper of the group with nerves of steel and an equally hard and concentrated personality. Her accuracy/reaction record was outstanding among the many Third Ranks of the Variety she belonged to, which was to be expected of those of Dea Umbrae's Order. As Marcus looked under fallen branches and large leaves, Adolfina brought her LRR-25 "Long Sword" (the official sniper rifle of Eurasia) up and ready to be fired to bring Hell or Death to the enemy.

Louise, on the other hand, was more skilled in blitzing the enemy with her BR-86 "Rapier": the official automatic rifle of Eurasia. Louise was, to say the least, the baby of the squad as she was the youngest at the fresh age of 14, just barely a woman by the Faith's standards. In public, she was a sweet and devoted young girl with very proper manners and a heart of gold; in battle, she was a cold and emotionless killing machine, caring only for efficiency and keeping the Faith with herself and her Brothers and Sisters. She hugged her rifle close to ensure her accuracy and for the feeling of the smooth steel and plastic it was comprised of.

Marcus sifted through the last bit of foliage until his boot tapped a wet lump of flesh and bone.

Sergeant, I found one! he called out to his superior.

Sisters, cover us while Corporal-Brother Johnson and I investigate, Oishizu commanded as she and the corporal jogged over to the lump Marcus was crouching at. Private-Brother, show us the body.

Yes, ma'am, the Italian soldier complied as he lifted up the now crimson and olive plant matter to reveal a young man dressed in a green cameflouge BDU typical of an Oceanic soldier.

Private-Brother, is he alive? Johnson asked as he took a closer look at the limp body.

Check his pulse yourself if you want to know, Corporal-Brother, the Japanese sergeant said as she turned the soldier's lifeless body onto his back, revealing the hideous entry wounds from the recent attack. He was armed with a now shattered Colt M5 assault rifle, and had moss-brown hair buzzed short, and a clean-shaven face; all typical characteristics of his military's soldiers.

Johnson slowly brought his first two fingers toward the man's neck and placed them under the corner of his jaw.

Nothing.

Just as he withdrew his hand, however, a faint pulse of blood pumped through his body, alarming the corporal.

Sergeant-Sister, he's still alive! he jumped back and drew his automatic shotgun at the body with hurry.

Really, huh? The little heathen still wants to defy us? Good, we can extract some information from him if we hurry. Brothers Marcus and Johnson, help me dress his wounds and prepare him for interrogating once he becomes conscious. We'll only use a little bit of stimulant to keep him awake from that point on. Sisters Louise and Adolfina, continue covering for us, the 33 year-old sergeant told her squad as she took out a small medical pack from her left waist pocket.

Yes, ma'am! the troupe complied as they each did as they were told. Louise and Adolfina circled around the team with equal alertness and readiness to defend their Brothers and Sister. Meanwhile the other three members of the team hurriedly tore off the survivor's uniform shirt and began cleaning his fresh wounds with antiseptics and pouring a pungent chemical into the bullet holes.

The luminous, white chemical was an acid that was engineered to dissolve only lead and lead-based molecules and turn them into a gas that would rise quickly out of the entry or exit wounds while leaving flesh intact. It was what was called "Demonic Blood" by the people of Eurasia as it was said to mimic the qualities of the blood found in the High Priests Deus Sonitum and Dea Umbrae. Whatever the case, it was a necessary item to possess in military campaigns against the enemy. As a bonus, it gave the soldiers of Eurasia a sense of national pride to know that their country's technology and development was far above Oceania, who still had to use surgical techniques to remove bullets or shot.

All three soldiers quickly covered their noses and mouth as the lead-based gases escaped into the air, so as not to receive lead-poisoning. Once the metallic mist dissipated above their heads, the two Brothers and their Sister worked on keeping the wounded soldier of Ingsoc alive. Marcus administered a simple, mechanized syringe that injected two cubic centimeters of adrenaline into his bare chest. With a jolt of his body, the soldier sat up with a long shriek of pain.

Silence him! Oishizu ordered her subordinates as they muffled his open maw and tried to pin him back down to the forest floor.

"Big Brother! I've found them!" the soldier called out unintelligibly. "Watch me, please!"

Damn it! Tranq him! And as instantly as he awoke with fury, the Oceanic soldier settled back down as a small dosage of sedatives were injected into his bloodstream, calming his nerves and relaxing him ever so slightly.

"Big…Brother…I've…I…" he mumbled as he slowly slipped into unconsciousness. But a quick slap to the face by the Sergeant-Sister woke him from his trance.

"We need some info from you, sinner," she finally used her voice, which was typical of a commanding officer: stern and, obviously, commanding. As it was instructed of all Eurasians, she spoke English, a little bit of Newspeak, and her homeland's tongue of Germano-Latin.

"You…You're not with Oceania!" the soldier panicked as he noticed the Germanic uniforms of his captors. "Get away from me you bastards!"

"Listen, you vile mongrel!" the Japanese woman snarled as she held onto the man's shoulders and brought her face close to his. "We just saved your life with the blood of our lords. You should feel honored that we're letting you live this long. Now, we can do this one of two ways, you can either confess now and we'll kill you through tranquilization, or, we'll drug you up with so much sodium pentothal that you'll be happy to defect to our nation and let us kill you painfully. So, which is it going to be?"

"You'll never win against Big Brother and Ingsoc," he declared as he spat at her face, hitting her left eye.

"Blasphemous bastard!" Johnson yelled as he slugged the man into his right cheek.

"Corporal-Brother Johnson, stand down," the woman commanded as she wiped the saliva and mucus off her elfin face and pulled out a new power-syringe. "Private-Brother Marcus, get out your vid-camera. It's time we make a convert out of this sinner to our brothers and sisters."

"Yes, ma'am!" Marcus complied as he pulled out a small, onyx device with a lens in the front and a small viewing screen hanging out to the side.

"Alright, let's get him drugged up first," Oishizu said as she punctured the follower of Ingsoc in his left arm with her medical/interrogation device. "Now, do you love Big Brother?" she asked him as he struggled in her tight grasp.

"With all my heart! I'll die for Big Brother and the Party!" he yelled. But after a few seconds of waiting by his captors, his mind began to spin and lose logic at a quickening pace. After a whole minute of further waiting, the drugs took their full effect and turned the self-righteous fanatic into a mindless drone.

"No, you don't."

"I don't?" he asked confusedly.

"No. You said you wanted to join Eurasia because you hate Oceania."

"I did?"

"Yes."

"Oh, I see."

"You also said that you would gladly betray your family and comrades for the love of Neo-Bolshevism."

"I said that?"

"Yes, you did."

"Alright. It makes sense. But then, why did you shoot me?"

"We didn't. You shot yourself with one of our blessed weapons.

"Why?"

"Because you told us that you truly wished to be forgiven of your sins through our divine instruments."

"I see now."

It was time to make a fool out of Oceania now.

"Brother, start rolling," the sergeant ordered her subordinate, who hit the red record button on the device. "Now, tell us what you just said, Brother."

"Alright," he smiled with innocence. "Let's see, I love Eurasia more than anything in the world and I absolutely hate Oceania. In fact, I renounce my family and comrades right now because I want to join Neo-Bolshevism. Now that I think about it, I've always wanted to join Neo-Bolshevism."

"And how did you receive those wounds of yours? We certainly didn't cause them."

"Oh, these?" he smiled happily now as he looked at his punctured body. "Why, I was so eager to be forgiven of my sins that I shot myself with these holy weapons your…I mean OUR kind carry around."

"Of course, brother. Now, tell us where your former comrades were."

"Oh, those sinners? About less than a kilometer to the east. Are we going to kill them?" he asked anxiously.

"No, you said you were going to kill them yourself for their vile and wicked ways."

"Oh, that's right. I guess I did say that! I promise to do a splendid job too, sister," he chirped.

"Excellent, brother. Here, take my Aldspear pistol," Oishizu smiled as she handed her side arm to the 'convert'. "Now, lead the way."

"With pleasure," the man beamed

Alright, Private-Brother Marcus, keep rolling, the Japanese woman began her new string of orders for her troops. Sisters Louise and Adolfina and Brother Johnson, we're going to follow the convert and let him slaughter his comrades until either he or they are dead. Should the former happen, we'll take over and smite them all.

Yes, ma'am! her troops agreed.

For the troops of the 115th Eagle Platoon, it had been a slow day. Between eating their rations every six hours and playing a few games of Patriotic Poker once every two hours, they were bored beyond all comprehension. Their mission was like any other of their fellow soldiers in this southern continental area of Oceania: protect the Home of the Brave. Simple? Yes. Exciting? Not all the time. But it didn't matter to these men who fought for their beloved country. If it meant the sacrifice of their own lives, every one of them would fight for Big Brother and the Party. But, that didn't mean that the soldiers were able to enjoy every second of it.

"Hey, Corporal Spike," a blonde haired soldier of the group asked as he sat next to his comrade on an old log. "Up for a game of-"

"No, Private Dylan, I don't want to play Patriotic Poker again," the corporal sighed. He had lost most of his ration dollars from the past five consecutive games he had played with his men.

"Heh, afraid you'll lose again?"

"Not afraid, I'm fuckin' tired of you guys always taking my ration dollars."

"But gambling is an Oceanic pastime. Losing just shows that you're willing to take the heat and be the loser for the team."

"Yeah, well I'd rather stake my odds at fighting the enemy. At least I have a fightin' chance with that," he grinned as he brandished his assault rifle.

"I hear ya on that buddy," the private chuckled as he cocked the bolt on his rifle with a noticeable clank.

"When do you suppose Private Smith will be returning? I wouldn't want to lose anyone of you guys to the goddamn terrorists," the corporal's face frowned a bit. It had been three hours now since the platoon sent one of its privates off to recon an area thought to be enemy-infested, and he hadn't returned yet. Suddenly, a gradual approach of footsteps put the soldiers of Oceania on alert mode as they armed themselves with their M5 "Liberty" assault rifles and MP 7B "Constitution" submachine guns. The 30-something-odd troops turned on their laser sights and awaited who or whatever approached.

None of the soldiers moved an inch in their positions; even the sweat on their faces from the humidity of the jungle stood in place as the great stand off began. After a stressful eternity of waiting, the target appeared before them battle-torn, shirtless, and carrying an enemy pistol.

"Hey, comrades," Private Smith smiled as he stood before his former platoon.

"Private Smith?" the Lieutenant said as he and all the other soldiers lowered their arms. "Where the hell have you been? What happened?"

"I realized something," he smiled.

"What, comrade?"

"I realize now that Eurasia is a great nation and that Oceania is a foul country full of debauchery and sin."

The platoon roared with rage at the soldier's betrayal, yet none dared to attack him immediately. They all ceased their hoots and snarls as their lieutenant raised his hand.

"So, you're betraying us?" he asked.

"Yes. And, I'm going to kill every last one of you bastards!" Smith declared as he cocked his pistol and open-fired at the Oceanic soldiers. Without hesitation, the troops unleashed their fury with their assault rifles, forcing new bullet-holes into and out of the traitor, but Smith never stopped his firing. Two soldiers' eyes rolled back in their heads as Smith's pistol embedded leaded capsules into their thick skulls while another soldier doubled over in pain as a round punctured his gut.

"For the glory of Eura-" but suddenly, Smith collapsed as his entire skull exploded from the numerous speeding bullets crushing his head to pieces. All was silent for a moment as the soldiers gazed at the treasonous lump of flesh before them, until a new barrage assaulted the soldiers from behind the jungle's foliage.

Within five seconds, seven soldiers' heads imploded from sniper rounds speeding through them and out the back. Before the rest of the soldiers could react, a rush of lead and copper was flung at their bodies, tearing their insides and forcing them to convulse with each and every impact. This carried on for twenty seconds, until all of the soldiers were dead or dying. Another eerie silence pervaded the air until a woman spoke.

"Stop rolling, Private-Brother Marcus," Sergeant Oishizu ordered, and with a simple click, the filming ceased.

"Good Bal Or almighty…" Corporal Johnson whistled as he surveyed the damage he and the squad had inflicted on their enemies. "Those heathens didn't have a chance," He chuckled as he walked over to their communications station to salvage any useful parts, pushing off corpses leaning on the tables..

"Yay! Another victory for Eurasia," Louise said with girlish glee as she skipped over to the platoon's rations for some semi-decent sustenance. If there was one thing that the Oceanic Army had on the Eurasian, other than their numbers, it was the nutrition and durability of their food supplies. Not that there was anything wrong with the freeze-dried chocolate, sausage, cheese, cabbage, and sauerkraut Eurasia supplied her soldiers, it was that Louise was a Disciple of Scorpious, and per his Variety's lifestyle, she often consumed hearty amounts of food and water along with rigorous exercise to balance it and keep her girlish figure sleek and strong.

Sergeant Oishizu and Private Marcus each pulled out their side-arms and began enforcing their will for all the soldiers they had attacked to be officially dead by plugging each their heads with a direct shot to their brains.

This task was done as an added insurance that the troop wouldn't be Arrogant and leave any soldiers alive if they were found by their comrades. The squad could have drugged and 'converted' a few more soldiers and filmed them committing suicide for their love for the Faith, but the troop would need to keep their supplies for as long as they needed until they were allowed to re-supply in approximately 48 hours from then.

Alright, brothers and sisters, the sergeant told her soldiers. We need to get the hell out of here ASAP and head back to the base.

Yes, ma'am!

And so the squad took what they needed and headed south to their headquarters, established near the border of the jungle area in the continent. This was a good six and a half hours away on foot, but a good hymnal here and there through their inner voices would keep their spirits up and entertained. The group kept silent as far as their voices went, but each soldier's mind was a bit giddy, at the very least, about the success of their third mission together in the campaign against Oceania.

Corporal Johnson thought about the honor he would bring his community when he would return. As a Second Rank Disciple, he was one step away from receiving the tremendously wonderful title of First Rank, which would give him new duties and responsibilities for keeping the Faith alive with its people. He was 30 now, and had been a Second Rank for a good eight years now, serving his community and family with much devotion and love to them and the Faith.

He also had a beautiful mate a year younger than he was that he had been coupled with for 15 years now and even had two children with: a 14 year old girl and a newborn son. His mate was always loyal and sprightly, yet cared for her family and community with a big heart and, if not for her son still needing to be breastfed, she would have gladly joined the Holy Army to Humble the sinners of Oceania.

…Brother Johnson! I'm talking to you! Adolfina said as she snapped the corporal out of his trance.

Oh, sorry. I was daydreaming. What did you ask, sister?

Ugh…You need to pay attention, brother, the German sniper sighed. We were talking about the supplies we snagged from the base. The question I asked you was if you found anything interesting.

Oh, that. Well, I managed to snag their hand-held radios and a few code-breakers. I think our base can use them to intercept and then translate the sinners' transmissions.

Excellent work, brother, the group congratulated the soldier together.

Brother, little Louise began. I was wondering something…. she asked hesitantly.

Yes, sister?

Um, would you…um…like to share one of these energy bars with me? I mean, there's too many for me to get rid of all at once and all… Even though he wasn't looking at her, Johnson could tell the teenage girl was blushing.

Of course, sister, he chuckled as he turned around to face the short French girl, her normally pale cheeks a light shade of pink. He thankfully took one of the chocolate bars and began chewing the bland and gummy substance. It was like eating a piece of tar or nearly-frozen maple syrup: hard, sticky, and incredibly chewy. But, how often did soldiers of Eurasia get to indulge themselves? Even though Bal Or's Disciples such as himself ate little, it was nice to feast upon the spoils of victory every once in a while.

Moderation; that was how everyone in the Faith treated pleasure obtained from the ingestion or inhalation of substances. And it was that attitude that kept the Faith strong where the early faiths failed at. The unification of separate lifestyles under one faith was another tactical advantage Divine Retribution had against Christianity in the early days of Eurasia. Christianity, as popular as it was in Eurasia, fell to Divine Retribution's proclaiming of no afterlife and the rebirth of the old Anglo-Saxon idea of living eternally through memories of the great deeds one had done.

The two soldiers munched happily together as they continued their journey to their base, keeping their voices silent and their inner voices limited. The jungle itself was equally quiescent, as if to awe at the force of five that destroyed its native sons' group of 35.

Brother, um…how is your family doing, last time you checked? little Louise tried to make conversation with the Disciple of Bal Or.

Ah, well, my daughter has been performing her duties quite nicely, so my mate tells me, and our son is just as spirited as ever in his infancy. Oh, and my mate recently saved a few sows from slaughter. It turned out they were still pregnant.

Oh. That's very nice to hear, the French girl smiled as she continued to chew hard on the bland substance those Oceanic heathens called 'food.'

How about your family, sister? What have you heard of them?

Oh…um…well, Daddy has been very busy with his work as a First Rank, so he hasn't come out of his study to often. Mommy on the other hand has been praying for me everyday and has been keeping herself busy with housework and gardening for the community. Mommy even made a few extra euros for selling her surplus.

I forget, what does you mother grow in her garden?

Oh, well, mostly lettuce and cabbage with an apple tree that our family has had for generations. We live a very humble life with our food supplies, despite our Variety's lifestyle.

I see.

Yeah… the girl trailed off as she tried to think of something else to say the one she admired. She decided, however, that the joy of simply eating and walking with her superior was enough to satisfy her.

As Johnson and Louise continued to eat together, Oishizu and Adolfina discussed issues of the Faith together.

…And of course, we'll need to be ready to matriculate the new group of children that my community just received from the Multi-Disciple communes, Adolfina said. Once again, ninety percent of them are girls. I think there are only three boys coming into our community this time.

Heh, it's a good thing your community has access to non-sexual reproductive sciences. Otherwise, my community would have to keep sending our bachelors to mate with your maidens, the Japanese woman laughed as she took out her machete and cleared a new pathway for her and her squad.

Of course. Tell me, how is Arbiter Brother Francisco doing? I haven't had any contact with him since our last convention.

Oh, our Arbiter is doing well despite his ankle sprain. The doctors say he'll be back to normal in a week from tomorrow, last I checked.

Praise to modern medicine, sister! I'm glad to hear his health is in good standing.

I'm glad to know that you care for his safety despite the Variety he belongs to.

Well, considering Dea and Deus's Varieties are more or less the same, it would only make sense that we of Dea's community would be concerned about the affairs of your community.

Well thank you, sister.

This was what went on between the soldiers as they headed to their base together, relaxed, yet still ready to take on anything Oceania had in store for them.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the story, characters, names, and themes of 1984; they are all copyrighted to George Orwell and not me. The following characters, the High Priests, and my ideas about how Neo-Bolshevism will work out are the only things which belong to me.

"Ah, Squanda Squad 35, good to have you guys back. Mission's a success, I presume?" the gatekeeper of the cameflouged Eurasian base asked as he entered in the security code to let the squad proceed through the titanium blast doors.

"Thanks to our dedication and teamwork, yes, Private-Brother Sanios," Sergeant Oishizu smiled at the man as she and her troops passed by him and entered the barely-lit passageways to the underground facility. The tunnels and crisscrossing paths were all strange and new to everyone in the squad except Johnson. As a Disciple of Bal Or, he grew up in a commune built underground as was typical of the High Priest's lifestyle.

As the squad made their way to the central command center, they passed by and said hello to various other soldiers of their battalion. Some were discussing things, others were polishing their holy weapons, and still others were helping out in temporary shrines. Every single man and woman was always doing something, and knowing that the High Priests and First Ranks were always watching only encouraged them to work harder.

Finally, the squad of five made it to the command center, where various soldiers gave reports to their superiors and technicians did their tasks of sending orders, intercepting signals, and all the technical work of the center.

"Squanda Squad 35," a bald Second Rank by the name of Captain Roulier spoke to the squad as he finished filling out a form that would be sent to another squad. "Good to see you're back."

"Sir!" sergeant Oishizu said as she and her troops clicked their heels and saluted.

"At ease, brothers and sisters," the captain commanded, allowing the men and women to relax their stances a bit. "So, how did your mission go?"

"It was a complete success, sir," the Japanese woman reported. "We converted an enemy, made him willingly kill his comrades until he was dead, and then we vanquished all the rest in the brigade, with all of it on film starting from his confession…per your instructions, brother."

"Excellent. Project Divine Sight is moving along nicely with contributions from your team and others. May I have the video disk please?" he opened his hand to receive the item.

"Private-Brother Marcus," Oishizu commanded, and the Italian man took out the camera and gave the square piece of plastic and circuitry to his superior, who took it appreciatively.

"Brother, sir?" the Japanese woman asked as the captain handed the disk to a female technician and faced the squad.

"Yes, sister?"

"What else do you need to be done by us, sir?"

"Oh, well, I suppose you and your squad can take the next 24 hours off until further notice. Yes, why don't you all pay a visit to the makeshift shrine and do a little bit of praying. From there you can each do as you wish to relax for a bit. Eat, drink a little, perhaps even procreate with your brothers or sisters if your Variety allows it. I'll expect you all to be ready at 1200-tomorrow afternoon for whatever duties we may have for you. Understood?"

"Sir, yes, sir!" the five soldiers saluted and clicked their heels once again.

"Dismissed," the bald man saluted back and turned his attention to the duties he had in the command center as the squad exited for the shrine.

Shrines to Divine Retribution at military bases were very similar to the full-fledged shrines of cities and communities in that they possessed the same basic features: a cubic altar with each of the four High Priests facing out at each side, a torch lit by a flame of the sacred fires used in actual shrines to light and heat the room, and a simple tapestry that displayed a picture of the Moment of Retribution (the self-crucifixion of the High Priests upon white crucifixes of light).

The only differences between true shrines and the makeshift ones was that with the military shrines, the altar was a hologram-generator which displayed the images of the High Priests, the sacred torch fire was a simple reproduction used only for symbolism, and the tapestry was actually a blessed sheet of cloth with the images laser printed on it. Nonetheless, soldiers frequented these military shrines just as much as the real ones were by civilians.

The squad made their way through the tunnels and passageways to a yellow room with a large black cube in the center. Above it were realistic computer-generated holograms of the four High Priests, their forms each over 2 meters tall, facing out in four opposite directions. Deus Sonitum faced the East, Dea Umbrae to the South, Bal Or to the West, and Scorpious Scorpernous to the North. Each High Priest stood straight and tall, and below their forms and engraved in a white metal were the three principles and slogan of Neo-Bolshevism:

FAITH IS LAW.

DIVISION IS UNITY.

SUBMISSION IS FREEDOM.

THROUGH PHYSICAL PAIN AND MENTAL STRYFE

ARE WE FREED OF OUR SINS IN LIFE.

All in Eurasia knew these phrases and held them dear. The slogan was also more than just a slogan; it doubled as a blessing that united all the Eurasians in the Faith. Even these five soldiers knew that without these principles and ideas, they would all be feuding communities never in harmony with one another. And without the mental strength the High Priests rewarded to the Faithful who prayed for it, no soldier or civilian could ever accomplish the great tasks in their life alone.

"Everyone, to your altar," the sergeant told her brothers and sisters as they scattered to pray to their respected saints. Adolfina went to Dea, Johnson to Bal Or, little Louise sat in front of Scoprious's image, and Oishizu and Marcus kneeled before the mighty armored image of Deus. Once they were all in place, each Disciple began praying to their patron saints, thanking them for the strength and wisdom they had been given, and asking for the strength to continue to fight for the glory and honor of Eurasia.

They each ended their prayers with an amen, and then split up to go to different areas of the base. Adolfina headed for the underground target-range, hoping to max her skills out even more for a few hours and then go to her room to meditate, per her Variety's lifestyle. Marcus and Oishizu went to the warriors' lounge to grab something to calm their nerves like Squanda blood wine, and then relax a bit while listening to other soldiers' stories. As Johnson headed for his cot in the barracks to get some shuteye, a meek voice cleared its throat behind him.

"Hm? Oh, Sister Louise," he said as he faced the small girl, who looked at the ground as she began talking to the corporal.

"Um…Brother…I was…Um…" She stuttered, trying to find the right way to say what she wanted.

"Yes?" the German man said as he placed a comforting hand on the French girl's shoulder.

"I…I…Would you like to come work out with me?" she looked up at the man and flushed.

"Oh, of course, sister," Johnson smiled, which made the young lady smile in response as she walked alongside him and went from one tunnel to another to enter the gymnasium.

The base's gymnasium was a large arena encircled by a running track and steel and iron exercise equipment from the early part of the new millennia. Each exercise area had two or three stations at it for working out a certain range of muscles on the body and always had at least one set of weight-lifting bench stations near it too. In the center was a combat mat for low contact sparring and close-quarters combat training. Once every few weeks, the strongest warriors would take out the iron and steel melee weapons that were sacred to their Variety and would fight in mock battles until one opponent was tired or pinned to the ground. Soldiers who didn't fight could make wagers and bets using their rations or war trophies that belonged to them as a form of currency. Even still, winners and losers in bets and fights all had a hell of a time on Fight Night.

Johnson exited the males' locker room dressed in his crimson cotton jogging shorts and his magenta tank top, waiting near the exit way of the females' locker room for his workout partner to come. It wasn't a long wait as the young French girl came out and closed the door behind her. Little Louise wore her long strawberry blonde hair in a ponytail (instead of the usual bun for when she was in combat) and was in her copper-colored sports bra and her earthy-toned spandex bicycle shorts, both articles accentuating her petite yet full figure.

"Well, you look nice, sister," Johnson complimented the girl to make her feel a bit more comfortable around him.

"Th-Thank you, brother," she smiled back at him.

"So, where shall we go first? The treadmills?"

"Um, sure, that would be nice."

"Alright, after you, sister," Johnson bowed to the French teenager, who blushed a little and then skipped over to the four walking-machines with her partner following her in a light jog. The two were silent for a while as they each set the difficulty of their workout on their devices and still quiet when they started running. It took a good 10 minutes of jogging alongside each other in place for little Louise to finally say something.

Um, brother? She asked hesitantly through her inner voice.

Yes, sister? What is it? The brown-haired man asked. Using inner voices outside of combat was perfectly acceptable by the First Ranks and the High Priests' laws. The Faith trusted all that had an inner voice would never converse about overthrowing the Faith or defecting to the Enemy or anything treasonous. And even if one DID speak of such treacherous ideas through their inner or outer voice, the First Ranks said that they had divine sight from the High Priests to see who was a traitor in their midst.

Once in a while, there would be a rumor about a Third or Second Rank losing Faith and talking utter nonsense about not living under the Faith's ideals and saying that the High Priests were not real. But everyone knew these heretics were wrong; they always were. In fact, as far as anyone could remember, once the First Ranks took these heretics to the High Sanctum in what was once called the Vatican and talked with them, the heretics would return to society and immediately profess that they were wrong, the Faith was the only truth to the Universe, and that the High Priests were as real as anyone was.

Um…Never mind… the French girl said as she returned to focusing on running the remaining 900 meters on her pre-programmed course.

Are you sure, sister? Johnson asked, curious as to what the young girl could possibly want to talk about but was too nervous to say. It could have been…no, that couldn't be it.

Um…What…What did you think about last Fight Night's battle between Sergeant-Brother Anseilman and Private-Sister DeMoure?

Oh, well, I was rooting for Brother Anseilman since he's from my Variety. I especially liked how he wielded the war hammer so gracefully against Sister Demoure's sword batons. It's a shame he lost from dehydration, but it was a splendid fight. What about you? What did you think?

Oh, um, well, I was hoping Brother Anseilman would win too, but yeah, I liked the battle a lot as well. I really liked how even though she won, Sister DeMoure still stayed Humble by saluting Brother Anseilman as they took him to the infirmary to get him re-hydrated.

'Blessed be the Humble' after all, Johnson chuckled. Soon, Louise joined him in his mental laughter until they began laughing out loud for a bit. The two smiled at one another for a few moments, then returned to their running, saying nothing for a half-hour or so. During that time, Johnson would sneak long gazes at Louise as she ran in place; her long yellow-orange hair flowing behind her in its ponytail, her light form gracefully kicking her legs back and forth during her work-out, and her small but well-shaped bosom bouncing nicely as she continued to exercise.

Johnson was reminded of his sweet 14 year old daughter back home as he watched Louise. Though she always was trying to hide it, she looked up to him, and he knew it. A stray thought popped into his mind about having a relationship with the 14 year old. She lived, according to her profile information, in the same city as the corporal did, which meant that having her become a Disciple of his Variety or him, his family, and her all becoming Multi-Disciples was an option if he wanted to be coupled with her.

Before the Disciple of Bal Or realized it, his treadmill stopped running. He looked back at Louise to see that she had finished her run as well.

"What would you like to do next, brother?" she asked innocently as she wiped the dripping perspiration from her forehead with her wrist.

"Oh," Johnson began as he caught his breath. He didn't want to admit it, but he was getting old, and exercise wasn't what it used to be for him. "Well, what about the dumbbells?"

"Oh, well, I've…um, I don't do well with those, brother," Louise looked down in shame.

"It's ok, sister, I'll help you."

"R-Really?" she asked as she looked up.

"Of course, sister," he smiled back at the French girl.

"Alright!" the girl chirped

Later that night, after Johnson finished his meager meal of carrots and lean fowl sausage, he passed by his Japanese sergeant Oishizu, who was clad in her two sizes to big T-shirt and night pants, as modesty was required of Deus's Disciples. There meeting was chance, but it was enough to spark conversation.

"Sister," the corporal called to his commanding officer, who turned to face him with a professional smile.

"Yes, brother?"

"Where did you and Brother Marcus go after our after-battle prayers?"

"Oh, the warriors' lounge."

"Oh."

"Yeah, we both had about two shots of some aged Vita Vodka. Good, but strong stuff," she grinned. "What about you? I saw you and Sister Louise head somewhere together. Did she finally confess her feelings to you?" she snickered. Johnson wasn't the only one in the squad that knew Louise was in love with him. In all actuality, everyone in the squad but little Louise herself knew that they all knew about her feelings for the corporal.

"No…"

"Geez, brother…You need to decide for yourself how you feel about her soon."

"Why so soon, sister?"

"We officers were just given a seven day notice that our battalion will be shipping back home. There's something fishy about the whole thing if you ask me…" she sighed.

"Oh, well, thank you for telling me, sister. Good night," the German corporal waved good-bye to his superior, who did the same to him, and they parted ways to each head for their respected Variety's barracks.

Sleep did not come easy for the corporal as he switched between thoughts about Sister Louise and their battalion being pulled out of the war. Was the war coming to an end soon? He hadn't heard much about other battalions' progress in the war against Oceania, but surely with their superior technology, tactics, and their divine right, Eurasia was winning this war. And, as far back as he could remember, they had always been at war with Oceania. What would happen if they were no longer at war with their mortal enemy?

When this became too much for him to contemplate, he switched his thoughts to little Louise. Yes, she was beautiful. Yes, she was well above the acceptable age to be coupled with. And yes, she was probably so enamored with Johnson that she would do anything to be with him, including changing her Variety to his. Males having multiple mates was not uncommon in his and her Varieties, so, there was nothing truly wrong about the whole idea of him taking a second mate. And, even though he knew his current mate was rather accepting of change in their relationship, especially the numerous styles of sex they tried out together some years ago, he wasn't quite sure how she'd feel about having a sister-in-coupling to share her mate with.

None of this was helping his insomnia as he covered his head with his pillow in frustration while he tossed and turned in cot. He tried to relax, but the sound of a few members of his Variety in the barrack making love to each other only made him less drowsy. But instead of hearing his sisters and brothers, he could only hear Louise's soft and innocent voice moaning in pleasurable bliss from his own actions. It was all too much for the corporal as he jumped out of bed and headed over to the barracks belonging to Scorpious's Disciples.

Louise was sleeping serenely when he arrived at her cot and began to caress her sweet teenage cheek, forcing her to open her eyes and see the German man gaze at her lustfully; just before he got into her bed and expressed his feelings for her.

The next day, the two Disciples parted from their embrace at the crack of dawn, Johnson putting his clothes on hurryingly to make it to his barrack before he would be missed and little Louise stretching her petite arms back. Still tired from the love-making of the previous night, she asked the corporal something she never had the time to ask him during their session together.

"Brother?" she asked in her delicate and meek voice.

"Yes?" Johnson turned around to face the girl, whose only cover was her copper-colored nylon blanket.

"Last night…Um…Does this mean that…you and I are, or will…?"

The corporal smiled sweetly at the young maiden and kissed her lovingly on her sweet lips.

"My dear, when we get home, we can make arrangements."

Her face glowed with joy as they both waved goodbye to each other. On his way out, the Disciple of Bal Or felt a sense of opportunity as well as the feeling of having a new start at his life. Of course, this wasn't without a few complications. Would Louise switch to his Variety? Would they all have to be Multi-Disciples? And of course, how would his current mate deal with this idea? But these thoughts could be saved for later; right now all that mattered was getting ready for the day's tasks and orders.

"And for the honor you and your squad have brought to your communities and Varieties, we First Ranks award each of you the Iron Rod of Bravery," the Arbiter proclaimed to the five members of Squanda Squad 35, who each stood in attention in their ceremonial uniforms of the Faith. Instantly the entire crowd of brothers and sisters of the Faith roared with praise as five First Ranks awarded the squad their ten-centimeter long iron cylinders encased in mahogany boxes. Each soldier took their symbol of honor and raised it above their heads to display to the crowd, who cheered and shouted in approval.

"Blessed be each of you for all you have done for the Faith and your people. Your valiant efforts have proven quite useful in our on-going war with Oceania. And through the actions of you and all your comrades-at-arms, we are closer to attaining peace by conquering these sinners," an Arbiter told the squad as each of them bowed in respect to the higher Ranked Disciple.

"It was our pleasure, Arbiter-Brother," Oishizu smiled. "We simply wanted to do the High Priests' will and help our brothers and sisters in whatever way we could."

"Well, we'll be sure that all of your good and selfless deeds don't go unnoticed, sister. Now," he turned to the audience of Disciples. "We must feast in celebration of our holy warriors! To the dining hall!"

And so they went to the grand hall and feasted upon the spoils of surplus the agrarians had to offer to their communities: duck, goose, venison, bottomless baskets of potatoes and other hearty vegetables, and assorted spirits of the finest variety. It was a grand feast, and not even the smallest child left the great tables without a full belly. But, work and pleasure always mix in the Faith, and so all Disciples and children worked together to clean up the messes they had all made.

An easy way to burn a few calories was by performing tasks such as hand-washing over two-thousand plates, wiping the grand tables down with wet and dry rags, storing the spare foods in frozen lockers and refrigeration units, and resetting the table to its pre-mealtime status. Finished with his duties for the night, the Disciples all diverged to their vehicles (chariots they were called) and left for their respected communities in the night. Johnson left with his family shortly after telling little Louise goodnight. He would still have to tell his mate that he wished to be coupled with a second woman, but that could be put off until later.

"What are you thinking about, lover?" Johnson's Italian wife Amelia asked as she strapped their infant son into his child-seat in their chariot.

"Hm? Oh, nothing," he smiled at her sincerely as he opened the door for their teenage daughter to enter in the other passenger side.

"So, father," the couple's daughter Anna asked. "How was the war? Did you kill a lot of sinners?" she nearly squeaked with joy.

"Several, and they all cried out for their Arrogant leader, too," he chuckled as he started the chariot and began driving back to their home.

"Aw! I wish I could have seen it," she said in a faux whine. "If I you two had allowed to join the Holy Army, I'd kill as many of those foreign sinners as I could."

"I know how you feel, Anna," Amelia sighed. "But, sometimes soldiers aren't the only ones needed in times of war. Think of your lesser age being a blessing."

"What do you mean, mother?"

"Well, if you had gone off to war," Johnson explained. "Who would help your mother at home to keep the house ready for us and help take care of your little brother? Your help around the house was just as important to the Faith and nation as my squad and I were."

"If you say so, father…" Anna sighed.

"So, dear," Amelia asked her mate as they continued their drive home. "Who was that young girl you were talking with? Was she a squad member?"

"Oh, Sister Louise? Yes, she was a real trooper in our squad, always fighting hard and being very quick-minded in the heat of battle," Johnson said.

"What Variety and Rank is she?"

"Oh, she's a Third Rank of Scorpious's Variety, and very devoted to the Faith. Kind of like a pair of other girls I know…" he chuckled as he peered back to see his daughter and mate both blush.

"Does she live near by?" Anna asked once her cheeks returned to their lightly tanned shade.

"Yes, we should invite her over, love," Amelia said.

"Well," Johnson thought for a moment. "I believe she said she lives in a community a few miles north of Branzveld. Sure, I'll be sure to ask her about that this week," he smiled as he continued toward his home several miles away, thoughts of a future life with Louise and his family together bringing joy to his heart.


End file.
